When we’ve got quite some distance from Tudors, I feel my heart rate decrease to some sort of normal level and sigh out a breath of frustration. We need to know if Conner’s sleeping with Evelyn. I still don’t believe he would, but we have to know for sure, and I need to understand why the hell someone like Aiden Phillips would have the slightest knowledge or interest in who we are. While I get that Alex and I have been seen by Cecily, that doesn’t explain why he knows what my name is and it also doesn’t explain why he would have any interest in me or Belle at all. I’ll ask Alex about it later - yet another man I have to discuss with him. I get the feeling he won’t be too happy about our meeting today but it’s not like I did it on purpose, and I’m definitely not hiding it from him.
Two tube rides later and we’re rounding the corner to our apartment building. Belle looks exhausted and Teresa looks like she needs to join a happy party or something. I so need to find her a man, preferably not one like Aiden Phillips or Pascal.
“Are you going to this thing tonight?” Belle asks as we reach the lift.
“Oh, do you mean the Tranting fundraiser? Yes, I didn’t know you were though,” I reply as we travel upwards.
“Yep, Conner’s been badgering me about it. It’s important to him for some reason, yet another thing he won’t tell me about.” Oh, again.
“What’s Tranting anyway? Do you know?”
“Nope, no clue.”
“Girls really, you need to get your game on. The Tranting Fundraiser happens every two years. It’s in aid of Hope Christ’s Children’s Hospital and there will be some very big players there this evening. I think it’s at the Westminster this year.” We both stare at Teresa as she wanders into the kitchen and flicks on the kettle. “And given that it’s nearly six o’clock, you both better get your backsides in gear. You’ll need your finest stuff on ‘cause your boys will be in black tie.”
And mine is all at Alex’s. Great. I rush into Belle’s bedroom to see what she’s got available. I spy the long, black, incredibly sexy lace creation with a frown. I couldn’t pull that off, could I?
“Belle, can I try this?” I shout as I round the corner and present her with it.
“Wear what you like, honey. I’m not going,” she replies as she kicks off her shoes and switches on the television.
“What?”
“Not going. He can take the slut instead. In fact call her and see if she wants to borrow something else of mine.” This is not good.
“Belle, get your arse in that shower and sort your shit out. This is ridiculous. The man is in love with you and for whatever reason needs you with him tonight. He may need to work on his temper but he is not sleeping with Evelyn Peters.”
“Yes, he is.”
Oh, I’ve had enough. Throwing the dress down on the sofa, I find my phone in my bag and text Alex.
- Is Conner sleeping with your sister? Love you x
The reply is, thankfully, almost instant.
- Definitely not. Loving this directness by the way, very stimulating.
I smile at the reply and wander over to Belle, shoving the phone into her hand.
“There. See?”
She looks down at the screen for a few moments then chucks the phone at me and stomps into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. I’m not sure if she’s pissed off with me or herself so I stare at the door and resign myself to the fact that she just needs a little time. Whatever she’s doing, I certainly need to start getting ready so I slurp the tea Teresa has plonked down in front of me and mentally run through what else I’ve got in my wardrobe.
“Do you mind if I stay here tonight?”
“No, of course not. Help yourself, honey,” I reply as I check off my list of clothing, underwear and jewellery. I could really use that choker that Alex got for me, although preferably not with the thong thing attached. Actually, maybe that would be nice. I glance at the dress again and notice the lace side panels. Not then, it appears underwear won’t be needed at all.
Grabbing my phone, I send Alex a text asking him to bring the choker with him, then realise he might not be going home so send another one to say it doesn’t matter. I’ll find something to do the job.
“Do you think she’ll be okay?” Teresa asks.
“I think so. I’ll have a word with Conner later, but she does have to come to this with me. She can’t just give up on him for no reason.”
“Right, well, she’s had ten minutes of moping. You go get yourself ready and I’ll get her motivated. Do you think Vodka will help? Or I could do one of my cocktail things.” I giggle and point her toward the kitchen.
“I think that would help a lot, honey. Can you get me a glass of wine while you’re at it?”
“Yep, go on now. Your hair is a real disaster and Mr. White is going to love this little number so off you go, do your worst.”
Standing under the shower, I try to quell the random panic that keeps attacking me regarding Aiden Phillips. He is not the sort of character I want anywhere near my life, or Belle’s for that matter. Not that I know an awful lot about the man, but I know enough to be very aware that he is bad news. Why I didn’t do a little research when Alex mentioned him is beyond me. I could have been prepared for him today if I had.
Clearly my reaction to him was ridiculous. I did not hold myself well at all, and although I did bring my head up in the end, there’s no denying that fear seeped through every vein in my body. Now, given that I am currently in a relationship with Alex and have had several dealings with Pascal, I can’t quite understand my fear. They are both quite scary enough, so I can only assume he has some very bad things going on his mind that he has the ability to teleport into the heads of others. Or maybe he has no morals at all and I can somehow feel that.
I wander out into my room and start the process of gaining some kind of order to my hair, trying to shake off the strange feeling regarding the man. It’s almost like he’s got a hold over me that I’m not aware of. My eyes narrow at the thought. Does he know something about Alex? He clearly knows him and more than likely has had dealings with him of some sort, but that doesn’t mean Alex has been too involved in that world, does it?
The image of him beating up the guy that attacked me comes flying back. It’s not pleasant, even if it is a little core clenching for some reason now. What is it about this violence that has become so appealing lately? Are his preferences changing my views on aggression?
An hour later and I wander back out into the lounge to find Teresa slumped on the couch with what looks like a martini in her hand. I didn’t even know olives existed in this apartment.
“Where is she?”
“In there, getting very fabulous indeed,” she replies. “Seems she’s changed her mind about Miss Peters. I think Alex’s text did the trick, although I gather she’ll be there tonight so I’d keep a watchful eye if I was you.”
“Mmm, fair point.” Belle in furious mode is not something to be excited about, and is she? Does Alex know? Given their last interaction, I hope so.
“So,” she says as she hauls herself upright. “If you’ve both finished, I’m going to have a bath and chill out for a bit. Do you need a hand into that outrageously sexy thing?”
We both look at the dress as I nod in response. She picks it up and holds it out to me as she begins to unzip the back of it, which keeps going, and going, all the way to the bloody floor until it comes apart in my hands.
“Oh!” I exclaim stupidly as I stare at it.
“Well, yes, it is a bit... risqué, isn’t it? No underwear either. Oh, you are going to be naked so quickly once he finds out about this. I’m so jealous,” she says with a huge grin on her face. A giggle bursts from my mouth at the thought. He is definitely going to be happy about this dress.
Unwrapping my robe, I push my arms into the armholes and let her zip the back up until it’s firmly secured at the back. It skims every contour on me while clinging to each curve a little too tightly if I’m honest. Thankfully, the neck
line isn’t too low cut. There’s still a fair bit of cleavage on show but not overly gratuitous.
“Belle, I’m coming in,” I say as I wander in so that I can look in her wardrobe mirror. It’s far better than mine. I’m stopped in my tracks by the most breathtaking dress I have ever seen in my life - deep red, slashed almost to the hipbone with ruffles and flowing graciously along the floor behind her. Her hair is up in a seductive do that I’ve never seen on her before with very hot, cat-like eyes. She looks exquisite and thoroughly edible. If I wasn’t her sister, I would be drooling.
“Wow!”
“Is it okay? Not too much?” she asks with a hint of nerves. “It’s just I’ve been such a bitch to him and it seems I shouldn’t have been and I just want him to be proud of me and...”
“No, you look... Wow!” Oh my god, she’s sniffing back tears. I gallop over to her as best I can in this very tight dress and wrap her up in a sisterly hug.
“Yep, okay, watch the hair for fuck’s sake,” she says as she pushes me away a little and smiles. She wipes at the underneath of her eyes and gives me a once over. “Right, shoes… Umm... How about these?” She’s holding up a pair of equally sexy stilettos, which will probably kill me by the end of the night. “And here, there’s a lock for that dress,” she continues as she rifles about in her draw and produces a small padlock and key in gold then makes her way behind me and presumably snaps it into place on the zip.
“That makes me feel a little more secure,” I respond as I slip my feet into the shoes and take the key from her. It’s going in my bag, where it’s safe.
“Right, girlies, I think your men might be here,” Teresa shouts from the lounge. We both meet her at the window to peer down onto the street. Sure enough there’s the Bentley and a Limo parked out the front. “I am so fucking jealous it’s unbelievable. You have to find me one of those,” she says as she points to Conner getting out of the Limo, looking damn good in a tux, even with blue hair. Alex appears next, looking equally stunning, more so if I’m honest, but then I’m biased. They move toward each other with a smile and a man hug while laughing about something together and I don’t stop the sigh that flows freely out of my mouth. It really is very dreamy to watch.
“Okay, let’s do this then,” Belle says as she plonks my wrap on my shoulders and grabs hers. “Have we got all our shit?”
“Yep,” I reply as I pick up my keys and drop them into my bag.
Belle seems to suck in a breath of nerves and then she’s back, her face the picture of every magazine cover in the world, that mysterious smile that she achieves with ease firmly plastered across her face as she dares the world to have a clue about what’s going on in her head. I don’t most of the time so if Conner thinks he’ll ever understand her, good luck to him. She downs the rest of her drink and moves to the door, picking up the back of her dress as she goes. Stunning is not enough of a word for her this evening.
“Come on then, snotbag.”
Okay, we’re back to that. I smile and follow her as Teresa waves her goodbyes and collapses on the sofa again.
Chapter 29
Elizabeth
“I need to show you how much I love you, and I need to apologize for what happened this morning because you deserve so much better than me,” he says with those twinkling blue eyes gazing down on me. There’s nothing darkened about them, nothing deadly or conflicting, just love shining brightly as he fiddles with a piece of my hair and tips my chin up to him.
I could melt, in all honesty, with the amount of heat that’s emanating between my thighs. I’ve pretty much been doing that since the moment I saw him standing in front of the car, looking all delicious in his tux, and wearing that happy, in love smile that he has when he’s relaxed. Why he’s so relaxed given our morning encounter is still a little confusing.
I’d thought he might be a little fidgety but it seems he’s actually in a remarkably good mood. Maybe it’s the standing up for myself thing. Who knows? Is he trying to manipulate me into giving up James? He might be. His other tactic hasn’t worked, has it? So perhaps he’s going with the kill her with love technique. Bastard. That’s not going to work either and I hope he damn well knows it.
Unfortunately, regardless of my sudden mental prowess, I’m still utterly devoted to his fingers, which are now heading down the side of my dress and softly teasing my hipbones as his lips meander across my jaw. His aftershave swirls across me in waves while he backs me onto the door in the corridor and presses his body into me, those devious hands hitching up my dress a bit so he can get his thigh in between my legs. It’s not going to happen because the dress is just too tight, and I should probably stop him, given our location, but as usual, I’m an utter mess around him, completely open to suggestion and quite frankly, ready for whatever he has in mind. Maybe he’s got a teaspoon on him somewhere...
“I missed you today. I need to make us better again. I need to show you,” he whispers into my neck as he pulls his fingers back up my thigh towards my backside and that trembling thing starts to build to unearthly proportions again.
If I’m honest, I’m still horny as hell from this morning and wish he’d grab hold a bit more. While I still can’t get my head around this strange arousal I get from his anger, I am at least accepting that it’s here now. It’s part of me, or maybe part of us. He creates this in me, this need to give him whatever he wants and let go for him and he knows it. He may not completely understand my head yet, but he knows every inch of this body and what it wants. That inner slut of mine is continually shaking her backside for his hands to play with.
He was right this morning when he asked who owned this body. I may have lied and said myself but I don’t. He does, and he can have it all, right now. I push back into him in the hope of showing my need but for some reason, he won’t allow it as he backs away a bit then continues with his gentle and soft touch as he caresses his way over my skin again.
“Not this time, baby. Let me show you the other man, the one you found,” he breathes seductively into my throat as I feel his lips stroke across my collar bone and moan in response. It’s beautiful, tender, quiet somehow, and for a moment the sound of the ball downstairs just disappears and the corridor vanishes. All I can hear is his heart and mine beating together, peacefully.
The door behind me suddenly opens and he pushes me calmly back into a room and closes the door behind him. Before I can turn around, he pulls a blue silk scarf from his pocket and lifts it to my eyes with a raised brow, clearly asking for permission. I have no idea why he’s bothering because he should know I’ll nod my head rapidly like a willing idiot. Given that we’ve only actually been in the building for an hour and he’s already got me into a hotel room, I’m obviously quite up for it. I gaze into his cool blues for a moment, wondering what’s going through his mind. Does he feel guilty for his anger, or for the way he was using it on me? Is it always going to be this way between us or will he eventually find a way to control that temper? Because he wasn’t like this at first. Is it just his love for me that causes it? His beautiful mouth slips up into smile as he watches me, looking for all the world like he’s completely in control of everything around him, and me.
The blanket of darkness comes over my eyes as he ties it off behind me and then his touch disappears, leaving me alone in the dark, waiting for whatever he deems appropriate next.
“A lock?” I hear the amusement in his voice and giggle, wondering whether he’ll be able to pick it with an inanimate object that may be lying around the room. “Well that’s interesting. Are you trying to keep me out of you, Elizabeth? Are you denying me entrance to my favourite place in the world? Is this my punishment?”
Well I hadn’t thought about it like that. I was more worried about other people unzipping the bloody thing, but now that he mentions it, he was a shit this morning. My smile increases to mammoth proportions.
“I’ve never been a fan of receiving punishment,” he says quietly from across the room somewhere. Clearly he’s
hardly ever had to say sorry let alone be told off about it. Oh! Wait, what about his dad? Shit, not good. Stupid Beth.
“Alex, I didn’t-” He cuts me off by wrapping a hand around my mouth and pushing his body against my back.
“Don’t speak. I want you to listen,” he says softly. Oh, okay. I nod into his hand so he backs away again, dragging his fingers across my lips as he does. I hear ice clinking in glasses in the background and slowly turn towards the noise. I don’t know what’s about to come out of his mouth but the thought of him nonchalantly having a drink while I’m standing here blind is a little disconcerting to say the least, and really not what I was hoping to be receiving at the moment. Instant images of very suggestive positions spring to mind and I can’t stifle the snicker of delight that leaves me at the thoughts. What’s he doing with ice anyway?
Glass is suddenly being pressed against my lips and I open my mouth willingly. It doesn’t occur to me that it might not be pleasant because anything coming from his extraordinary hands is always exceptional. Orange assaults my taste buds, swiftly followed by a heavy kick of liqueur. Ice-cold smooth liquid tumbles down my throat, changing on the way and somehow heating me through to my already overheated core. Delicious. My lips reach forward again as my tongue runs over the rim of the glass for more.
“Do you realise how damn sexy you are? How enthralling you’ve become?” he asks as I swallow more liquid and reach out to his labels to pull him closer to me. “You’re everything to me, Elizabeth. Not a minute goes by when I don’t wish I was buried inside you, or simply laying with you in my arms. Before you, I would wake up cold and empty. Now you warm me, you hold me close and tell me you love me as if I’m important to you for no other reason than just being me.”
He pulls the glass from me and runs his tongue over my jaw and across to my mouth. My own flicks out to meet him but he pulls away again. “Mmm, sweet. Can you feel that heat travelling down your throat, baby? Did you feel the ice against those perfect lips and then the change as it warmed on the way to your heart? That’s what you’ve somehow done to me, and I don’t know why but each new touch from you is sweeter than the last, more intoxicating in some way. I’ve never felt that before you, that hunger to taste it again, that irrational need to consume something so strongly that it’s impossible to be without it. Can you understand that?”
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